The Rebels
by AllSignsPointToBreezi
Summary: The youngest of the flock are dead. The others captured and forced to fight to the death in the School's very own version of the Hunger Games. But the flock are refusing to play by rules. This is war..
1. Just Like The Games

"I guess this is a bit like the Hunger Games."  
"How so?" Fang's lips curl into that adorable half-smile.  
"You know, the School being the evil, twisted Captiol, the CSM being the oppressed districts of Panem." I look down at my legs dangling aimlessly over the edge of the balcony, the city spread out endlessly before me, like a blanket of tiny twinkling stars.  
"I guess you're right." Fang is predictably silent for a few moments. "So how do we fit in?"  
"You're Peeta, I'm Katniss."I say.  
"Nah, I'm more like Gale," Fang says. "Peeta is too perfect. Dylan can be Peeta."  
"Fine, Dylan is Peeta."  
"Dylan's more like Finnick really, when you think about it."  
"Personality wise, yeah. But given the circumstances..."  
"Yeah, he has to be Peeta. Iggy is Finnick."  
"That makes Ella ... Annie."  
"Nudge is Rue, Angel is Prim."  
"And Gazzy?" I ask. We're both silent for a moment, thinking about where the Gasman fits into the story.  
Fang says, almost inaudibly, "If Nudge is Rue, Angel is Prim... then Gazzy must be the boy from the clearing."  
I can barely keep from crying, the pain of the loss of the younger kids is almost unbearable. "You mean the one with the girl who was turned into an Avox?"  
"Yeah," Fang whispers. "Him."  
We're both silent for a long while. I think that Jeb is definitely President Snow, but I don't say it aloud. Just the mention of him is enough to set Fang off lately. Instead I say. "What about Max?"

Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking _Wait! Stop! Hang on a second. _If I'm not Max, who am I? Well, my name is Gem and mine is a very long story. More on that later. Basically, Nudge, Angel and the Gasman we're killed by Jeb. The rest of us are on the run from the School, until further notice. They want me dead. And Fang, though I'm not sure why. Fang and Dylan get along now, because we made a pact which is, in a nutshell, Max and Dylan, Me and Fang. Everyone's happy. Sort of. Sound different? I thought so. So, I guess now is a good time to tell you this isn't the story you know. This is completely and utterly different. No, this isn't the story of Maximum Ride. This is the story of me, Gem.  
"I dunno about Max." I say, "I mean, if Dylan is Peeta, then Max should be Katniss."  
"But, Gale loves Katniss way more than Peeta does."  
"That's up to you to decide." Fang says. "We'd better be getting back."

Wordlessly, we both drop off the edge of the balcony and unfurl our wings, both jet black and invisible against the starless night sky. Our camp is about a kilometre into the mountains surrounding the city and neither of us says a word all the way there.

When we arrive, Max, Iggy, Dylan and Ella are slumped against the fallen logs surrounding our tiny, almost non-existent clearing. Ella is warming her hands by the fire looking as exhausted as ever. Months of being on the run haven't been enough to get her used to life in the wilderness.  
"Finally, I was beginning to think something happened to you!" Ella exclaims.  
"You're paranoid." I say. "We were just taking time out."  
"Is that code for making out?" Iggy yawns.  
I laugh. Iggy can always make you feel better. He has a way with words. "Not quite, Iggy. Just talking. I didn't realise we were so late."  
Dylan glances at his battered watch. "It's about half past seven."  
"You're not really that late." Max adds. "What'd you get?"  
Fang takes a seat near the fire and pulls out the various canned foods we'd managed to scavenge. "Alright!" Dylan says, reaching for a can of Ravioli.  
I take a seat beside Ella who is roasting a can of beans in the fire. I find a can of tinned asparagus and begin to eat it slowly. This food has to last us until we can stop and make camp again, and we never know when that will be.

The light from the fire is enough to light up our whole clearing. We all sit soaking up the warmth and light and eating our canned food. I begin to think about my Hunger Games theory. I know about it because before the younger ones were killed, we went to high school like normal kids. I read all the books and watched the movie. "I have this theory," I say aloud.  
"Yeah?" Dylan says. He's giving me that look that makes me think he's not over me. "Let's hear it."  
"It's just, it's like the Hunger Games, our lives."  
"You mean we're tributes in the School's games?" Iggy says looking up.  
"I was thinking more along the lines of us being the rebels."  
"And we're rebelling against the Capitol or in our case, the School." Fang adds.  
"But like Iggy said, it's also like the games themselves." Max says. "Chances are only one of you two will survive this."  
"Katniss and Peeta survived, by pretending they were madly in love." I point out. "And we don't even have to pretend."  
"Yeah, but the sad thing is, the capitol had more compassion than the school does." Fang stares into the darkness of the woods around us. "You should get some sleep."  
"We all should." Dylan announces, "I'll take first watch."

High above the clearing, curled up in a tree for the night, I feel more like Katniss Everdeen in the Hunger Games than ever. Fang is in a fork a few metres above me. Sometime around midnight, after Max takes Dylan's place, Fang slips down to my branch. "Can't sleep?" I ask.  
"Can't stop thinking," he says.  
"About what?"  
"Well, if there can only be one victor, so to speak, I just ... I want it to be you."


	2. Trapped!

In the early hours of the morning I lay awake, listening to the sounds of the forest, listening to Fang's breathing beside me. But mostly, listening for danger. My watch ended hours ago, but I can't sleep. Far below me, Iggy's on watch... or is it listen? Iggy's blind. Probably should've mentioned that earlier.  
_Snap!_  
Probably just Iggy.  
_Snap!  
_I peer over the edge of the branch.  
_Snap!  
_Iggy whistles a four-note tune. Our signal for danger. Just like in the games. Seconds later, we're alert and on the ground, Ella in Iggy's arms, ready to take to the sky at a moment's notice. Oh yeah, another thing I forgot, Ella's human. She can't fly. We're 2% bird, we can.

All around us, the woods have gone eerily quiet. Not even the birds are singing anymore. We all stare at each other, sensing the danger. We stand still as statues until Iggy opens his mouth to announce a false alarm. That's when the first dart whistles through the air aimed straight at Max's heart. It misses her by a fraction of an inch and lodges itself in a tree behind Dylan. He turns to examine it.  
"Tranquilliser dart," he whispers as the second dart sails towards Iggy.  
It grazes Iggy's arm but doesn't pierce the skin. We all take off at full speed and we're in the air almost before the third dart sails across the clearing.  
"Come on!" Dylan shouts over the wind. "We have to get out of here."  
But it's too little too late. I see them now. Snipers dressed in black from head to toe, most likely with bulletproof armour, guns trained on us. Before any of us can take any form of action, a dart hits Max in the shoulder and she begins to plummet towards the ground. Dylan goes in after her, screaming for the rest of us to flee but he goes down as well. Iggy's next and I know Max must have hit the ground by now. I don't want to look down, don't want to see her mangled remains. I think of Ella in Iggy's arms. Was she hit too? What will happen to her.  
"We have to save them!" I roar over the wind.  
Fang probably doesn't hear me because he begins to flee in the other direction. But even with a top speed of 400 km/h he isn't fast enough; a dart pierces his forearm. I shriek and pull it out but Fang's already falling fast. The ground is getting closer and I can't see the others. Where are they? They can't have survived surely and they most definitely can't have fled. This is it, I think. I'm as good as dead. I close my eyes, brace for the impact. That's when the dart hits my thigh. I try to fight it, to stay awake but the world blurs in front of my eyes. The sky is ground, the ground is the sky. I don't know anymore. It's all over in a matter of seconds.

My breathing is shallow and rapid, a cold sweat has broken out all over my body. My hands are bound, so are feet. My vision is blurred. My head throbs. I don't remember anything. I don't know where I am but I feel the pounding in my ears, usually associated with cabin pressure, but maybe it's the tranquiliser.  
I hear voices. They seem distant but given my condition, they could be right beside me. I close my eyes. There is a man and a woman, their voices are extremely muffled at first but as I concentrate on them they become clearer.  
"... All under control, just as the Director requested." The woman says.  
"Yes, this will be quite an interesting little experiment, won't it?" The man gives an awful, evil laugh.  
A shiver runs down my spine. An experiment? And what is under control? Does it involve me? Or the others? Did they survive? Who are these people? Are they the whitecoats? So many questions are buzzing around in my head, it makes me feel sick. I'm terrified.  
"I imagine so," says the woman.  
I focus again on the man's voice. His voice is vaguely familiar. "And what of the CSM?"  
"Obliterated." The woman says in her cold, cruel voice.  
I want to hear more, but I'm too weak to fight as the drugs pull me back under.


	3. Isolation

When I wake again, I know where I am. But the familiar chemical smell of the School does not comfort me at all. I know the drugs must have run their course because my head is clear, as are my ears and I can see clearly. I am bound to a table in the corner of a pristine white lab-like room. The room is completely bare and I am the only one in it. This only adds to my discomfort but I try not to let it show because I know I am being monitored and I don't like to remind the whitecoats that I am weak.  
I have no choice but to lay there and it is hours before anyone comes to see me. There is no clock on the wall and no windows. Just the endless white; the walls, the floor, the blinding lights overhead. I hear the door slide open, but I can barely turn my head enough to see who it is. A man stands over me, blocking out the blinding light. It takes a while for my eyes to adjust fully. "How's it going, Sweetheart?" says Jeb.  
Jeb! He's the one I heard on the plane. All my anger for Jeb and the School boils up inside me. "Where are they?!" I scream at him.  
Jeb sits down beside me and strokes my hair. "Keep calm, sweetie."  
"WHERE ARE THEY?! TELL ME, JEB!" I am not calm. Not in the slightest. I refuse to be.  
"They're alive," he says. Then, he presses a button on the wall and everything goes black as the sleep syrup enters my system.

Is it hours or even days later when I wake, I do not know. I know I haven't eaten in days, but I'm not hungry, so I guess they must be feeding me through the tube in my arm. I think back to my encounter with Jeb. _They're alive. _That's what he said. But I've no idea if that's the truth. I can't trust Jeb. I hope they are, Fang especially. Life without the others would be awful, but bearable. Life without Fang... I don't even want to think about that.  
A short while later, a doctor in a white lab coat enters. She removes the tube from my arm and inserts something into my wrist. The needle hurts as it pierces my skin and I flinch. The doctor doesn't react. It's almost as if she's inhuman; she doesn't speak at all.  
After she leaves, I am released from my bonds and am free to move around as I please. It makes barely any difference to my mood. I am angry, sad, scared and tired as ever. I try to sleep but can't, so I begin to pace restlessly. How long have I been here? What are they trying to do to me? And the others, if they're alive, are they going through the same? They probably would've killed Ella, or worse, grafted wings onto her.  
Long after my feet have gone numb from pacing and I am lying on my back staring at the blinding white ceiling, the door slides open. I jump to my feet in an instant, ready to flee, ready to fight. Jeb casually strolls towards me, as if we're old friends. "I'll bet you're a bit tired of being in here," he says good-naturedly, which irritates me greatly.  
"What's it matter to you." I spit, but inside I am screaming to be released. I need to stretch my wings.  
"Let's go for a walk," Jeb says. "Talk things over."  
Our "walk" lasts about five minutes before I am escorted by three other whitecoats to another room. This room is not endlessly white or bare. It is colourful by comparison and fully furnished. There is a bed, a nightstand, a walk-in closet and an ensuite bathroom. The whitecoats don't speak a word to me, but they do lock the door behind them as they leave. Somehow I feel more trapped in here than I did in the room of endless white. I collapse on to the bed, exhausted, wanting to sleep. But my brain has other ideas. What did that doctor insert into my arm? I prod my wrist where she inserted the needle and feel a small, metal disc. A tracking device maybe? But why; I can't exactly go anywhere.  
I must doze off at some point, because I force my eyes open sometime later. It takes me a moment to remember where I am. My new room doesn't have the trademark chemical smell of the school. There are no clocks or windows here either but I get the feeling it's late at night or early in the morning because I don't hear any footsteps outside my door. The tantalising smell of bacon and eggs reminds me how hungry I am. There is a steaming tray sitting on my dresser. Someone must have put it there while I was sleeping.  
After I eat I feel loads better. I take a shower and dress in a hoodie and jeans I found in the massive wardrobe. I haven't had the opportunity to shower in a long time and I like the feeling of being clean.

A few hours later, the same doctor that inserted my tracking device enters my room followed by two larger male doctors. The three escort me down the hallway. There is a window about halfway along, it is open and as I pass it I smell the fresh, cool morning air and catch a glimpse of the city outside. It makes me feel just a little more free.  
We arrive at a room, like a sitting room with big plush couches and a window! The male doctors depart and the female doctor locks the door behind me as I enter. It occurs to me that I could've escaped through that window in the hall. But now it's too late to dwell. The windows in the room are bolted shut, of course. But I can see outside that it's very early morning; the sun is only just beginning to rise.  
It's not very long before the female doctor enters the room. This time she is alone. She inserts a long needle into my arm, but this one doesn't hurt. I wonder what is going on, but I have no time to speculate before I pass out.


	4. Let The Games Begin'

I wake with a start, frozen into a crouching position, physically unable to move as if some invisible force is holding me there. A cool, fresh breeze whistles through the trees overhead. I am in a clearing, much larger than our camp in the woods. Forest is the only thing I can see for miles around. I can smell rain.  
I look to my left and see Iggy frozen in the same position as me and on my right is Dylan. I'm relieved to see them, but confused. What is going on? Spread out around me in a massive circle, I count twenty-four other kids, some clearly mutations like me, others I'm not sure about. All I know is none of the others seem to have wings.  
I begin to size up my fellow mutations. There are the six of us; Dylan, Max, Iggy, Ella, Fang and I. Dylan and Max are fighters; they'll be okay. Iggy's smart. We're all good at survival. Looking around, I doubt any of the mutations have ever left the lab. Most look fearsome and brutal, but arrogant. Some, like me, are small, but I bet they're quick and most will be strong. Some just look lost and scared. One girl is clearly trembling. I hope I'm not that pitiful.  
The whole scene is dreadfully familiar. The tracking device; my twenty four fellow mutations. It only makes sense. This is my worst nightmare. This is the Hunger Games.  
But there are a few major differences. There is no Cornucopia here, no supplies. That also means no weapons. How will we survive? Are supplies and weapons hidden somewhere, for us to find? Will the whitecoats send us gifts, like the sponsors from the games? Many of the mutations have clearly been trained, maybe even created, for this. Is this to give them a clear advantage? To see how those of us with little training fare under these conditions?  
It's very cold. The wind is picking up now, howling through the trees. I look down at myself and notice that someone has dressed me in a thermal jacket. Not all of us are dressed the same. Some have neglected to wear a jacket at all. Are they able to retain body heat more efficiently? Or is this just another cruel and unfair advantage?  
Then, a voice booms out across the clearing. Several people look to the heavens. I've no idea where it's coming from.  
_"Mutations, the winner will be the last one of you left standing. Let the games... BEGIN!"  
_The sound of a gong rings out, I'm confused. Where do I run? A full-scale bloodbath has already erupted all around me, there's no way out. A girl enters my field of view, pulling a knife from her jacket, lunging at me. I duck, cowering on the ground. A pair of arms scoops me up and I'm safe in the sky, high above the bloodbath in seconds. I look up at Fang "Where are the others?"  
"They had to run, we'll find them." Fang takes off in the direction of a huge cliff.  
I should feel happy or at least relieved knowing the flock are alive, but I'm too scared and this is too weird. The girl with the knives; she already had weapons on her, whereas we have nothing... I get the feeling we're not supposed to survive this.  
We set up camp on the cliff. The night is too quiet. I feel as though we're being watched. At any moment someone could attack. Neither of us sleeps. It's so cold, but we know lighting a fire would be an invitation to kill us. At sometime during the early hours of the morning, the gong sounds again... once, twice... I count eleven times.  
"Eleven dead," Fang says, as though he were telling me it would rain soon.  
"Doesn't it bother you?" I ask him.  
"Yes. It bothers me a lot." He whispers. Neither of us speaks another word.  
As soon as the sun rises, we set off in search of the others. For the first time I begin to worry. About them. About us. What will happen to Ella? She's only human. Has she already been killed... in the bloodbath. No. I refuse to believe it. Iggy wouldn't let it happen. Nor would Max or Dylan...  
Fang lands in the middle of a clearing in the dense forest surrounding us. "We'll have to continue on foot. I can't see anything from above these trees."  
"Okay, but... can't we rest awhile? I didn't sleep a wink last night."  
Fang sighs audibly. He doesn't want to waste time, but he says, "Fine, you rest. I'll keep watch."  
I slump against the trunk of a large fir and close my eyes.

That's when I hear the first arrow whistle over my head...


End file.
